by Joan Jonker
Nellie stood up when Miss Clegg had left with Phil and Doreen. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned. ‘I think I’ll be on me way as well, girl, I’m dead beat.’
Without saying a word, Molly marched out to the kitchen and returned carrying a long-handled brush. ‘Nellie, when all the glasses and dishes are washed, when all the beer bottles are standing in the crates in the yard, when all the chairs we borrowed from yer are stacked in the hall ready to take back in the morning, and when every crumb has been brushed from this floor – then, and only then, will any one of yer get through that door. So Ellen and Maisie, yer’d better hop to it.’
‘Molly me darlin’,’ Corker grinned, ‘ye’re not half pretty when ye’re in a paddy.’
‘I don’t want no flannel from you, Corker, just get crackin’, ’cos right now I could sleep on a ruddy clothes line.’
‘Come on George, Corker, and you Alec, let’s get crackin’,’ Jack winked. ‘I know my missus, an’ she means business.’
Molly put her finger to her lips as she stood on the top step with Jack’s arm around her waist. ‘Don’t make a noise for God’s sake – it’s turned three o’clock.’
‘We’ll be as quiet as church mice.’ Corker’s whisper echoed in the dark, deserted street. ‘Thanks a million, it’s been a great night. I don’t know anyone who can throw a party like you and Jack.’
‘Hear, hear!’ Alec nodded his agreement. ‘Marvellous night.’
‘Ay, ay! Hang on a minute!’ Nellie’s face couldn’t be seen but the sound of her voice told them she was wearing her indignant expression. ‘D’yer know those sarnies yer had? Well I’m the one that scraped the margarine on them an’ then scraped it off again, so how about a bit of praise for me, eh?’
‘George, take her home, will yer? It’ll be time to get up before we get to bed! Goodnight and God bless everyone.’
Molly and Jack stood with their arms around each other as their friends moved away. They heard Ellen saying ‘Goodnight all’, then Maisie asking, ‘Are yer walking up with us, Corker?’
‘No, I’ll go in with Ellen, make sure the kids got to bed all right.’
Alec sat on the side of the bed and slipped one of his shoes off. He let it fall to the floor, chuckling as he did so. ‘By, that was a party and a half, that was.’ He let the other shoe fall, then turned to where Maisie was getting undressed. ‘There’s something about the Bennetts’ house that gives yer a feeling of warmth and well-being. It always seems to be full of love and laughter. That party tonight wouldn’t have been so much fun in anyone else’s home.’
Maisie slipped her nightdress over her head. ‘I know what yer mean. It’s because they’re a happy, contented family … Molly and Jack are good parents, they love their kids and the kids adore them. And each one of them has inherited Molly’s sense of humour.’
‘Ay, when her an’ Nellie get together they’re bloody hilarious, aren’t they? I’ve never known anyone like them, they seem to bounce off each other.’
Maisie slid between the sheets and shivered. ‘God, it’s cold in here. Hurry up, Alec, an’ let me put me cold feet on yer back.’
‘I dunno,’ Alec said. ‘Is that all yer want me for, a ruddy hot-water bottle? I should have married someone like Nellie, she must be as good as having an extra eiderdown on yer in bed.’
‘Corker, yer’d better go, look at the time.’ Ellen pointed to the clock on the mantelpiece, then looked up into the big man’s face. ‘Yer’ll only get a few hours’ sleep.’
Corker reached for her and held her tight. ‘Let’s have a quiet few minutes together.’ He picked her up and sat her next to him on the couch. ‘I don’t want to go away tomorrow, don’t want to leave yer. I miss yer when I’m away, Ellen, and sometimes me body aches for yer.’ He drew her closer, moaning softly. ‘I wish we were married, love, an’ I was going up those stairs with yer. I want yer, need yer, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.’
Ellen put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away. She knew how he felt, because her longing was as great as his. It would have been easy to succumb, except for that little voice in her head reminding her that she was still married to Nobby Clarke. ‘Corker, please!’
‘Oh, don’t worry, me darlin’, I’m not going to do anything yer don’t want me to. I respect yer too much for that. But I have to hold you, tell yer how I feel – I can’t keep it bottled up inside me. I’m not made of stone, love, I’m a man with passion in me heart, a man with needs. But I can wait, sweetheart, I’ll not do anythin’ to hurt yer, because I love yer too much.’
‘And I love you, Corker, very much.’
As he bent to claim her lips, Corker murmured, ‘Next time me ship docks, we’ll go and see that solicitor feller, see if he can’t hurry the divorce through.’
Molly and Jack sat for a few moments with Jill and Steve, too tired even to climb the stairs. The room looked reasonably tidy: at least they wouldn’t be coming down to a pigsty. And it would only take half an hour, when they got up, to get the chairs back to Nellie and bring their table down. Then the place would look like home.
‘D’yer know, I’m that tired I could doss down on the floor here.’ Molly was having trouble keeping her eyes open. ‘I’m absolutely dead beat. Even me ruddy eyelashes are tired.’
‘Here’s yer mate.’ Jack yawned. ‘I feel as though I’ve done a twenty-four-hour shift.’
‘It was worth it, though.’ Steve grinned. ‘It was a crackin’ night.’
‘Thank you, sunshine.’ Molly gazed at him fondly. ‘D’yer know, I’m glad ye’re going to be me son-in-law.’
‘Not half as glad as I am!’ Steve laughed. ‘I think I’m gettin’ the best of the bargain.’
‘Mam, why don’t you and me dad go to bed?’ Jill said. ‘You’ve been on the go all day and you look worn out.’
‘I’m waitin’ for them to finish arguing.’
Jill frowned. ‘Who’s arguing?’
‘Me feet,’ Molly said. ‘They’re having a fight over which one is going to make the first step towards the stairs.’
‘Come on, love.’ Jack stood up and reached for her hand. ‘I’ll give yer a leg-up.’
‘If our Doreen’s not in by the time Steve’s ready to go, give a knock on the window over there,’ Molly said. ‘I told her to be no longer than half an hour.’
‘I’ll do that, Mam, so go to bed and stop fussing.’
No sooner were her parents out of the room than Jill and Steve made for the couch. It wasn’t often that they got any time alone together to do a bit of courting, so they made the most of the opportunity. His arm across her shoulders, Steve’s face wore a look of bliss. ‘I love you, Jill Bennett.’
‘And I love you, Steve McDonough.’ Jill gave a sigh of contentment as her lips met his. ‘I hope we’re as happy as my mam and dad when we get married. But we will be, I know we will.’
‘Yer can bet yer life on it.’ Steve’s tongue licked her ear. ‘I’ll treasure yer, take care of yer, and tell yer I love yer every day of me life.’
‘When we get married and have our own house, we can have parties like the one tonight, can’t we?’
Steve gave a throaty chuckle. ‘Yer’ll have to be sure to invite my mam and your mam. They’re the only ingredients yer need to make a party go. Just put them in a room with our friends, give them a couple of glasses of sherry and you’re away.’
‘We’re lucky with our families, aren’t we, Steve?’
‘We are that! And when we’re married and have children, we’ll have our own little family.’
Jill dropped her head to hide the blush. ‘They’ll be spoilt rotten by their two grandmothers.’
‘If they take after their grandmothers, they won’t go far wrong in the world.’ Before their lips met again, he muttered, ‘The next three years can’t go quick enough for me.’
In a house on the opposite side of the street, Doreen and Phil were locked in an embrace.
‘I’ve
never known two weeks go so quick.’ Phil ran his fingers through Doreen’s long blonde hair. ‘When yer want the time to go quick it always seems to drag, but when yer don’t want it to, it flies over.’
‘Yer might get another leave soon, perhaps for Christmas.’ Doreen was misty-eyed. ‘I’d love yer to be home for Christmas.’
‘I’ll have a word with our sergeant, see if I can wangle it.’ A picture of the sergeant flashed through Phil’s mind and he couldn’t think of anyone less sympathetic than the man who barked orders at them when putting them through their paces. Tough as old rope he was, but then he’d have to be to make decent soldiers of them. He’d never been known to laugh, and Phil doubted if the antics of the aunties Molly and Nellie could even raise a titter from him.
‘Will I come over ’ere tomorrow afternoon, or will you come to ours?’ Doreen asked. ‘I want to spend as much time with yer as I can.’
‘You come over here, I don’t want to leave Aunt Vicky on me last day.’ Phil rubbed a thumb gently over the back of her hand. ‘Will yer mam let yer come to the station to see me off? The train doesn’t leave until about midnight.’
Doreen looked pleased with herself. ‘I’ve already got that sorted out. Our Jill and Steve said they’d come so I don’t have to come home on me own at that time of night, so me mam said it would be all right.’
‘How old was your Jill when she got engaged to Steve?’
‘Jill was seventeen, Steve was eighteen. Why?’
‘If I asked yer to get engaged to me when ye’re seventeen, what would yer say?’
Doreen leaned her head on his shoulder and gazed into eyes that were as blue as the sky on a summer’s day. She sighed blissfully. ‘Oh, yes, please.’
Molly turned to lie on her back. She thought she’d be out for the count as soon as her head hit the pillow, but no, it hadn’t happened. Her maternal instincts wouldn’t let her rest easy until all her offspring were safely tucked up in their beds. ‘I’ll strangle our Doreen when I get me hands on her.’ She plucked at the sheet pulled up under her chin. ‘An’ I’m surprised at our Jill … I asked her to go over and knock for her.’
Jack rolled over. It was no good attempting to sleep with Molly tossing and turning and muttering aloud. ‘Give them a break, love! I can remember when we used to sit in your house waiting for your parents to go to bed, so we could have a few minutes on our own. It didn’t happen very often ’cos I don’t think yer ma trusted me, and even when they did go to bed and leave us, she’d be banging on the bedroom floor with her shoe before I even had time to purse me lips for a kiss!’ He put his arm across her tummy and tried to turn her towards him. ‘Come on, love, give us a cuddle.’
‘Yer know what you can do with yerself, Jack Bennett, yer can sod off!’ Molly slapped his hand. ‘Anyway, all the moanin’ yer did about being so tired, how come yer’ve got the energy?’
The springs on the bed creaked as Jack laughed softly. ‘I haven’t, love! If yer’d have said yes, I’d have died of humiliation.’
The springs creaked louder as Molly’s laughter joined his. And then they heard the front door open, Doreen’s voice, then Steve’s ‘Goodnight’.
‘Right, all me babies are in now so I can sleep easy.’ Molly leaned across to kiss Jack, but he’d had the same idea and their heads collided, bringing a fresh outburst of laughter. ‘Stay where yer are an’ I won’t miss yer this time.’
The kiss over, Molly said, ‘I love yer, Jack Bennett, an’ I suggest yer try yer luck tomorrow night.’
The house was silent, everyone asleep except for Tommy. He lay on his bed, wide awake. He’d handled it badly tonight. Like Ginger said, what he should have done was treat Rosie as if she was one of the lads. Yes, that’s what he should have done. Next time she tormented him, he’d talk about football or train-spotting … she’d soon get fed up and leave him alone. The solution to his problem solved, Tommy turned on his side and was asleep in no time, a smile on his face. Rosie O’Grady wasn’t going to get the better of him!
Chapter Sixteen
‘Rosie, for heaven’s sake will yer give yer mouth a rest?’ Doreen looked up from her kneeling position where she was pinning a hem on the dress Rosie was trying on. The girl was standing on a dining chair, the seat of which had been covered with an old pillowslip for protection. ‘I wouldn’t mind if yer only talked with yer mouth, but yer flippin’ hands are waving all over the place. If yer don’t stand still, this hem’s goin’ to be all skew-whiff.’
Rosie threw her head back and her cheeks, as bright and shiny as two red apples, spread into a wide grin. ‘Sure, isn’t me mammy always saying it would be easier to stop the River Shannon from flowing than to stop my mouth going fifteen to the dozen?’ Her clear laugh rang out. ‘She said I was talking as I was being born an’ have never stopped since.’
Doreen was smiling as she fell back on her heels. You couldn’t be angry with Rosie for long because she wouldn’t let you. You could insult her all ends up, but it made no impression. ‘I can well believe it! There’s times I feel like breathing for yer, ’cos yer don’t even come up for air! But if yer want this dress to sit right, then please keep yer mouth shut and yer hands still for the next five minutes.’
‘I’ll do that right enough, Doreen, so I will. I’ll be as good as gold.’ From her great height, Rosie gazed down to where Molly was sitting on the couch patching a pair of Jack’s working trousers. ‘Now don’t yer keep talkin’ to me, Auntie Molly, because ye’re gettin’ me into trouble.’
Molly put her hand on the square of material to keep it in place before answering. ‘Don’t you be layin’ the blame on me, Rosie O’Grady! In case yer hadn’t noticed, I haven’t opened me mouth for the last fifteen minutes.’
‘Is that a fact, Auntie Molly?’ Rosie shook her head from side to side. She was so childlike in many ways, unaffected and innocent, but some of her actions and sayings were those of an older person. ‘Sure doesn’t the time just fly over?’
‘You’ll be flyin’ off that chair if yer don’t behave yerself.’ Doreen pulled some straight pins from a strip of paper. ‘I don’t care if yer go out looking a fool in a dress with a wavy hem, but I do mind when people know I’m the one who made the flippin’ dress! My reputation is at stake here, so stand still and shut up.’
When Molly saw the impish grin on Rosie’s bonny face she quickly lowered her eyes and went back to her patching. And as the needle wove in and out of the material, her thoughts strayed. It was hard to credit it was only four months since they’d first set eyes on the young Irish girl because she’d settled in so well, she was like one of the family. Molly knew there had been spells of homesickness at first, because Bridie had told her. Her mother, forever wise, never slept until she knew the young girl was asleep. And on the nights when the longing for her mammy and daddy brought on the tears, Bridie would slip into Rosie’s bed and hold her in her arms until the sobbing ceased and sleep came.
Molly twisted the cotton around her finger several times, then broke it off with a sharp jerk. Reaching for the reel at her side, her mind travelled back over those four months. Such a lot had happened in that time: Rosie was working in a shoe shop on Walton Vale, Ruthie had had her eighth birthday and now went to school on her own, Phil had been home on a week’s leave before being shipped off abroad, and Christmas had been and gone. They had food ration books now, and the days when she and Nellie used to wander round the shops choosing what they fancied for their families’ meals were a thing of the past. The food allowance was very meagre … four ounces of bacon a week per head, four ounces of butter, twelve ounces of sugar, and the amount of meat they were allowed was pathetic. How they expected housewives to feed a grown-up family on the ration, God only knew.
But it wasn’t just the food shortage that had put a damper on Molly’s life, it was the signs of war all around them. The calling-up age for men for military service had gone up to twenty-seven, and men who were past that age were either joining the Home Guard or be
coming air-raid wardens. And they didn’t half throw their weight around, and all. One little chink of light showing through the blackout curtains and you’d have one of them banging on your door warning you to be more careful. And then there were the posters stuck up-everywhere telling you Walls Have Ears, or Careless Talk Costs Lives, and others with instructions on how to get to your nearest air-raid shelter if the sirens started. Barrage balloons now dotted the skyline, and wherever you went you had to carry the gas masks that had been issued to everyone. They were a right nuisance to contend with, they were, especially if you had both hands full and the strap kept slipping off your shoulder.
‘Mam!’ Doreen was walking around the chair, her head on one side, her eyes narrowed. ‘Does that hem look straight to you?’
Molly gave a cursory glance. ‘It looks all right from where I’m sittin’, sunshine!’
‘Right, Tilly Mint!’ Doreen slapped Rosie’s bottom. ‘Down yer get an’ I’ll start sewing it. It won’t take me long, so yer can take it home with yer and get me nan to iron it.’
Molly lowered her head. Her train of thought had been interrupted and she wanted to get back to it before she lost the thread completely. Where was she up to? Oh yes, the signs of war. Well, if anyone was in any doubt about whether the powers that be were expecting the Germans to bomb the city, all they had to do was take a bus into Liverpool and get off at the Pier Head. Everywhere you looked there were sandbags piled up outside the entrances to the huge buildings facing the Mersey. She and Nellie had got the shock of their lives when they’d seen them. And it was the same in Dale Street, Castle Street, Church Street and all the other main thoroughfares of the city. They couldn’t figure out what good sandbags would be if a bomb fell on one of the buildings, but they agreed someone must know what they were doing.
‘Hey, Mam!’ Doreen’s nimble fingers were moving quickly along the hem of the dark blue dress. ‘It’s a quarter to nine: what time are me dad and Tommy working till?’
